


Hunting the Moonlight - Prologue and Chapter 1

by Rwodage



Series: Hunter of Moonlight [1]
Category: Original Work
Genre: Alternate Universe - Historical, Alternate Universe - Vampire, F/M, Fae & Fairies, Gen, Mythology - Freeform, Vampires
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-06-14
Updated: 2020-06-14
Packaged: 2021-03-03 22:27:11
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply, Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,024
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24723028
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Rwodage/pseuds/Rwodage
Summary: An heiress to a nation refuses to become involved in her family's politics until she can make amends for the sorrow her uncle has caused around the continent.With help, Aisling leaves her homeland to search out her mother's killer and not get caught by those who seek to take control of her kingdom in the process.
Series: Hunter of Moonlight [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1787512
Kudos: 4





	Hunting the Moonlight - Prologue and Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> The Non-Con warning is for an assault that has minor contact. If you would like to skip the prologue, here is a tl;dr:  
> Aisling, daughter of the highest ranking lord, is approached in her family's study by the visiting lord's son, Thomas.  
> He insists on their families uniting through their marriage, she refuses and he tries to change her mind in the wrong way.  
> She slaps him and leaves, telling one of the guards what happened... and so our story starts.

###  **Prologue**

“Lady Aisling, would you please accompany me into the study?” Lord Thomas asked. “I have some business to discuss with you.” He opened the door to the study adjacent to his room. The Rwodage family had always been kind to their guests and made sure they had access to all items necessary for their visits. And for the ambassador for Zericta, Lord of Strathan, and his son Lord Thomas, the guest study filled with local laws, history, and customs, was exactly what they needed.

Lady Aisling of Rwodage, the daughter of Sir Marcus Rwodage, lord of the castle and the substantial grounds surrounding, shivered inwardly as she passed by him and entered the small study. “Questions Lord Thomas?” She asked, giving him a curious glance. “Our fathers are discussing the future of our countries, what is there for us to discuss?” She had never felt comfortable around this man, even in the royal courts of the United Lands. She walked to the desk in the corner of the room and busied herself with making sure that the parchment stacked there was meticulously straight. She nearly jumped when she heard the door shut.

His eyes roved over the room making sure that none of the servants had stayed behind to tend the fire. He glanced at the door leading to his room with an eager anticipation. “My Lady, I believe that I know how we can make a lasting peace between our lands” Thomas said, walking up behind her. “Maybe a union between a lord of my land and a lady of your land would create peace.” He placed a hand on her slightly exposed shoulder.

The lady turned quickly and brushed away from him. “I’m afraid that all of the ladies of our castle are either betrothed or too young to marry.” She walked to the fireplace, thankful that the servants had built a blazing fire at nightfall.

Thomas laughed, “All of the ladies but one, Aisling.” He walked closer once more and ran a finger along her cheek and turned her head to face him. The firelight cast an almost evil light over his face and she saw the dreadful unrest of Despot in his eyes. “You, my dear, are neither betrothed nor too young.”

Aisling swiped his hand away. “My Lord,” she said, shaking slightly in fear and anger, “you have neither the right to touch me in such a way nor to address me without my title.” She turned towards the door and reached for the handle. “Now, if you will excuse me, sir, I shall take my leave and return to my  _ own _ room.” 

Just as she reached the door, Thomas grabbed her shoulder and turned her sharply, pressing her back to the door. “I think not,  _ My Lady _ .” Thomas brutally pressed his lips to hers and forcing his tongue into her mouth in a bruising manner, pulled her towards the door leading to his own room. When she fought his advances, he pushed her hard against the stonewall, knocking her head against the stone, slightly stunning her, all the while, reaching for the laces of her bodice. He backed away from the kiss as the laces came undone and his hand reached her breast. “You will be mine, Aisling.”

Aisling became infuriated. She lashed out and placed a firm slap across Thomas’ face. He stumbled backwards, shocked to see blood streaming from the corner of his mouth. Aisling took this chance to run. Tears streamed down her face as she ran, adjusting her bodice to cover her defiled breast. She ran but only a few corridors, when she collapsed into the nearest arms, the arms of a dear friend and bodyguard. That’s where her troubles truly began…

###  **Chapter 1**

She felt the burn of the sun on her tender skin. The pale luminescence of her skin shone pallid, almost silver, in the golden morning light. Her dark traveling suite of leggings, vest and hat made her look almost ghostlike in the shadowed hollow of the dawn. She stretched and slipped on her calf high boots, carefully placing the dagger into its sheath on her outer right ankle.

As she stepped out of the hollowed tree where she had camped the night before, she scanned the forest around her for this morning's breakfast and wondered if she would find enough dry wood to cook it over. Her unnaturally vivid blue eyes landed on a rabbit sticking its nose into the dawn’s light.

She melted into the forest and silently crept up to the creature. Her muscles tensed in preparation for the pounce, but all for naught, for as she jumped, the rabbit ducked back into its hole. She tightened her grip on the rock her hand had landed on and threw it down the natural path between the trees, scattering the nested birds into flight. 

“By the Gods,” her curse rang through the forest then sighed, “So much for breakfast.” That was two meals in a row she had missed. After packing up camp, she walked back to the path and sighed in exasperation for her failure. 

About an hour later, her stomach felt hollow. “If only I hadn’t sent MoonStar with Jenny. I wouldn’t be in this predicament.” It was so quiet on the road now she could hear her every step on the earth. “I’ll drive myself crazy if I don’t hear anything besides my own footsteps.” She sighed and looked at a flower, kneeling down to smell it. “Great, I’m talking to myself now.” As she started to stand up, she heard a rustle under the brush and another opportunity for a meal presented itself. She pounced on what might be her only chance. It wasn’t quite what she was used to, but if snake there was, then snake she would eat. 

After finishing her spoils, she laid back and relaxed, hoping for another creature to cross her path. It startled her to hear the clopping of hoofs behind her on the road. Her heart leaped in hopes of Jenny returning with MoonStar, but knowing her own horse's trot, she dismissed the thought. She turned her head slightly to see a chestnut brown horse approaching. She stood up and started walking again, not wanting to draw too much attention to herself, but to her surprise, the horse’s trot slowed down as it drew nearer.

“Greetings,” a strong, masculine voice boomed from behind her. 

She turned quickly in feigned surprise, the light silver in her hair shimmering through the blonde in the sunlight. She felt her face redden when she caught full sight of the stranger. She recovered quickly, shaking herself mentally, and answered, “Greetings good sir.” Her voice softened into a meek shadow of her true stature.

The man dismounted his steed and bowed politely to her, taking her hand and kissing it. As he straightened up, he revealed his true height, just a head taller than she at five foot seven inches. She was surprised at how, even obviously weary from long travel, he still had a magnificent splendor about him. His broad shoulders stretched the tan wool across his chest, accentuating his sturdy build. His well-formed muscles and stature made apparent his capacity. His brown leggings and tall boots were only outshone by his magnificent sheath and jeweled hilt. The sword, she assumed, must be strong and reliable, and most likely a reward for some great deed.

She cleared the shock from her mind when he spoke again. “Mistress, what brings you to this area,” he looked her over, “and on foot?”

She let out an embarrassed giggle. “I fear that I had so little sense as to let my friend take my horse on an excursion into the town about a day and a half ago and have seen no one yet who will be kind enough to accompany me to meet her.” She adjusted her pack and placed a hand on her hip.

He smiled in amusement. “Would you be terribly disappointed if I accompanied you to the next town? I know  _ I _ would be if you denied me the pleasure of your company.”

Her face flushed, making him chuckle. She gathered her thoughts and said, “I would be grateful for the company. I have been quite lonely on my journey. Encountering only two other people on my journey can become a little wearisome. A hag and a thief aren’t much good for small talk.” She quickly shut her mouth. It was not a subject a lady would be so bold as to advance upon. The hag had seen what she was, it seemed, and ran quickly into an abandoned church. And as for the thief, she had dealt with him with only enough mercy as to leave him with no life in his twisted body. It took her nearly an hour to clean the blood from her clothes and skin.

His face darkened slightly. “A thief?” He looked her over, she felt his stare as burning as the rays of the sun. “And you escaped with your pack and your life?”

“I ran from him, I’m a great runner you know, and escaped when I found a hollowed tree in the forest.” This was partially true, for she had run from him after he had surprised her and took her purse of gold. Then again, when he gave up on chasing her, she followed him and got her purse and a few other valuable things. She started walking again, not wanting to keep the interrogation going.

He relaxed slightly, grabbed his horse’s bridle and followed her. “There was a bounty on a man who was last seen around here. What did this thief look like?”

“I was running for my life, I didn’t spare time to partake in his features.” She wasn’t going to be buried in her own words. “What was the bounty on this wolf's head?” 

“Well, if he’s found alive, one hundred shillings,” he said nonchalantly. “Of course, if he’s killed, he’s worth only fifty.”

She cursed herself for not waiting to question him, but then again, it wasn’t her idea to kill the man. “Is that what brings you to this province?”

“Can’t one travel the land freely?”

“I’m sure one can, but few know the whereabouts of outlaws, and even fewer stop and approach a woman dressed as I.” She smiled and looked at him knowingly. “So, sir bounty hunter, what brings you to these province?”

He smiled, “So, you found me out?”

“Well, it was either that, or you were a thief. And since you speak of bounties like you know much about them, it’s a simple deduction.”

She looked up at him. She hadn’t examined his face very closely. His features were solid and stern, as if he had seen death face to face and overcome its obstacles. Luckily, there were many laugh lines to show his love of laughter and fun. His sandy gold hair hung loosely in a ponytail, a few blown strands hung in his face. But his eyes, oh, his eyes. They seemed to hold an emerald fire that, inside the dark surroundings, made him look almost like one of the gods she had heard of while growing up. The thundering of hooves behind them quickly interrupted her dreaming thoughts. She turned just in time to see a large group of horses and their riders surround them. They all wore dark woolen fabrics and leather boots.

“Thieves.” It came out as a whisper from her snarled lips. Her anger quickly melted to fear.  _ Have they come for me? _ She thought.  _ Are they out to exact revenge for the death of their friend? _

A dark man in solid black clothes stepped his horse forward. “So, we finally found you,” he said, smiling viciously at her. “It took us a long time, but we tracked you down. We want our purse back.”

To her surprise, a hand went in front of her and her companion, and now champion, stepped forward. “What business have you with this lady?” His voice held authority that made her shiver inwardly as she unconsciously lowered her eyes and assumed a courtly modest posture.

The thief’s eyes shot to him. “And who, pray tell, are you to speak so boldly to me?”

“My name is Joshua of Stockton,” he said, a dark smile crossing his face, as he looked the dark thief up and down. “And you are none other than the notorious Black Wolf.” The fire in his eyes seemed to radiate fiercely now.

Black Wolf’s eyes narrowed. When he finally spoke, it was through gritted teeth, “You best step aside, Joshua, if you wish to continue on your bounty hunt for the Silver Witch. You are greatly outnumbered, and I hold no favors for anyone who steps into my business.” He raised his hand and the thieves around them drew their swords and daggers, evil grins emerging on their unshaven faces.

“Have you no eyes to see,” he motioned at her face and demure posture, “that this young lady has done you no harm, and her purse is already so light. What interest in her would you have?”

“Oh, but the harm she has done is much more than a simple purse. She has killed my son. I have come to avenge him.”

Joshua let out a short laugh. “This young beauty,” she felt her face redden at his words, “she could harm nothing more than a man's reputation. So you are obviously in no danger. Besides, what makes you think it was she who killed your son?”

Black Wolf’s eyes took on a dangerous blaze of their own, a dark, angry heat that was directed, not at Joshua, but past him and at her. “Wench, I saw Markus follow you into the forest. No one else was within a hundred leagues of the clearing you were resting in. What did you do with him woman?” He maneuvered his horse around beside her.

His words took her aback and then caused a new spark of anger to enter her soul. “I am no tavern wench to be ordered and come willingly to any master who calls. I answer to no one but myself and the gods in their immortal realm.” Her crimson lips curved into a satisfied smile at the look of disgust on his face.

Anger wrenched Black Wolfs face as he raised his metal clad hand, “You insolent witch.” He sent his hand flying, sending her to the ground. “You will soon learn what master to answer to.”

Joshua knelt down and picked her up, setting her on her feet. Rage had taken his features and warped him to look more demon than man. His voice, surprisingly, was soft and almost calm, “Touch the lady again, you will find yourself with Markus where the Devil’s minions can toy with your hides for an eternity.”

She wiped the blood from her mouth and looked up at her assailant. She felt the forest tug at her soul, the beast in her stepped forward, trying to overtake her mind. “You will pay for that. Had you any knowledge, you would have known that striking a woman in the forest could cost you more than her maiden’s head.” The darkness and power in her voice was unnoticed by the thief and Joshua, but a cold hush came over the group of thugs and the horses stirred anxiously.

Black Wolf laughed. “Who are you to think that you, as a woman,” he said haughtily, “can do anything more than give yourself to the night?”

“I have already given myself to the night,” she felt the rage draining into her soul and simmer into a saddened anger, “I have no reason to give what’s left of me to any man.”

“And what is this bold mistress’ name?”

“Aisling.” She stood up firmer, straightening her shoulders. “Aisling of Rwodage.” Her eyes shifted from blue to storm-cloud gray as a cloud drifted over the sun, plunging them into shadow.

An unsteadiness swept over the crowd as Aisling and Black Wolf’s eyes bore into each other’s. Joshua placed a hand on his sword, preparing to grab Aisling and get them out of there. Unfortunately, one of the thieves noticed his movement and hit him from behind with the hilt of his dagger, knocking him out. 

Aisling jumped as he hit the ground, his head bleeding where the hilt had hit him. She almost fell to her knees beside him to cradle his head, but Black Wolf’s voice interrupted her healing nature.

“Now that your bodyguard has been disposed of, Lady Aisling, you will surrender your purse to me.” He smiled, looking her over, watching anxiety fill her features. “And anything else you think might help save your life.”

Without Joshua to protect her, she was left with two choices; surrender or fight. Of course, to surrender meant certain death, and to fight meant she would have to discard her feint of innocence. She started to kneel down in submission.

“That’s a good girl.” Black said, “Give into your master,.” He started to laugh, his thugs joining him.

But Black's laughter was cut short as he was pulled to the ground, a dagger held to his throat. “Leave this forest,” she snarled, her voice as dangerous as the dagger she held, “or someone else will lose their head.”

Aisling smiled secretly as she felt Black Wolf’s body stiffen with fear. He looked at his men and nodded. All the men sheathed their weapons and backed their horses away. She stood him up and threw Black to one of his men. It took every ounce of resistance she had not to chase after them. That stench of fear was so strong, and the hunter inside of her almost gave chase to the entire gang. 

After watching the mob depart with fearful glances back, she grabbed Black’s horse and walked over to Joshua. She silently admired his some-what angelic face as he slept. She shook her head and, after placing Joshua on his horse, she mounted Black Wolf’s horse and led the way towards the town.


End file.
